


Cold hands

by Luminimanoise



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Coughing, Established Relationship, Ferdinand hiding his sickness, M/M, Sickfic, no medical accuracy tho, some fluffiness too, there's Edelgard and Dorothea making cameos too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21704035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luminimanoise/pseuds/Luminimanoise
Summary: Ferdinand feels a little under the weather lately, but it's not like he's never worked with a slight cold before. His vision swims, shivers are running down and up his body, and his hands are freezing against his forehead. Yes, a slight cold, indeed.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 6
Kudos: 157





	Cold hands

**Author's Note:**

> There are mentions of a sex that had happened (but nothing explicit or graphic) and parent's death in this fic. But like, just a sentence each. 
> 
> I just wanted to write overworked and sick Ferdinand but I didn't do any real research so please don't go looking for any accuracy in this, the sickness is a flu but like? Not really? Or maybe? Who knows
> 
> But please enjoy!!

I. Ferdinand wakes suddenly, with a jolt, a little confused. He must have fallen off something in his dream. Off a curb, a bed, or maybe off a cliff. He can't remember. His hand goes up and rest on his chest, trying to somewhat calm his wildly beating heart.

Ferdinand's in his office, napping on his papers, and the sun is much lower than it should be, painting sky orange and lilac. Drool is decorating one of the new contracts and he yelps, jumps up and tries to rescue it, but the ink is already blurred. With a groan he lets it fall to the desk and just kind of looks at it for a moment (or more). One of his assistants entering the room wakes him up from the daze and he hurries to clean the mess up with the help of the man. His hands tremble slightly.

II. Because of the nap, he missed his tea time with Hubert so he rushes to his office, on the way to Emperor's chambers. He lets himself in, as he always does. Says hello to Hubert's assistants and walks into his main office, making his presence known but without much of his usual boisterous behavior.

"Hello, love." he says walking up to the desk. "I am so sorry about today. I did not-" he reaches for his husband's hand, squeezing it weakly. Hubert raises an eyebrow at that but doesn't comment.

"You needed that rest." he says, lifting Ferdinand's hand to his lips. 

"I- Oh, you saw?" he groans, covering his face with his free hand. "I really shouldn't. That was... inappropriate. In the middle of work, nonetheless." 

Hubert chuckles quietly and Ferdinand risks looking at him. _Cute_ , he thinks. His face feels hot, so he tries to cover it up a little more. His hand is freezing cold against his cheek. 

"You have been... unfocused, lately. Unwell. Take some time off. Retire early today."

"Look who's talking." Ferdinand smirks at him and cradles his cheek in his hand. "How many times was it me cooing at you and willing you to go to sleep? I think I know how to take care of myself."

"Probably." is the only answer he gets. Hubert looks through his papers and sends him on his way to Edelgard. 

III. Edelgard praises his solid work, and Ferdinand's too embarrassed to admit his assistant helped him edit out all the mistakes he made. There was much more than normally. Probably his afternoon nap confused him a little. Yes, that was it.

He spends the evening with Edelgard, both of them drinking tea and talking about nothing. He can't focus at all though, everything is slipping his mind and Edelgard is talking too fast, too loudly. He smiles and nods and she seems not to catch anything, and even if she does, she does not say.

Once his sight starts swimming around he excuses himself, saying he has something to finish before the week's end. She lets him go, but he feels her eyes on his back as he leaves.

Once he's out of earshot he feels his knees go weak, and he has to reach for the wall to stay upright. It's almost like there's an earthquake, but no. It's just his bones trying to vibrate out of his body. It passes shortly after. _Huh,_ he thinks. _I must have gotten up too fast._

IV. There is something wrong with him. He couldn't sleep last night at all, and he thanked the goddess that Hubert wasn't there to see him struggling. He promised Bernadetta 'girls night' with embroidery so he was sleeping in her room. 

Ferdinand feels gross. Sheets are soaked with his sweat, his skin is clammy and his hair is everywhere making him uncomfortable. He didn't even bother calling his servants, filling a bathtub with hot water and hoping it will fix his problems. 

It soothes his muscles and calms him a little. Just a cold. Just a cold. 

He hears Huber coming into the room, pacing around, probably needing some stuff. There's a knock on the door and Hubert peaks inside. 

"Bath? So early, dear?"

"Ah." Ferdinand laughs bashfully. "I think I'm coming down with something. I just need a little warmth and something to eat."

"Wait a minute, I'll make you some tea." Hubert nods and without waiting for a response he closes the door. 

"Thank you!" Ferdinand calls after hm. "I love you!" There's some quiet response then, but the man doesn't need to hear it well through the door to understand. He smiles to himself and lets the water warm his aching body. 

Hubert comes back with a tray with some herbal tea and raspberry croissant, and stays with him, sitting on a rug on the bathroom floor. 

V. It's bad, he knows. Ferdinand was trotting down the stone stairs, trying to get to the meeting on time. He spaced out at his desk, and once he came to, there were only 5 minutes left. Inaudible curses are leaving his lips as he sprints through the corridor and turns to step down the other staircase.

But the moment he lifts his leg, something tight coils around his chest, makes him lose his breath. Because of that, he misses the first step, and if not someone yanking him back by his arm, he would fall. He would fall down these stone, hard steps and probably meet his end at the bottom of them. A picture of his mangled and bloodied body flashes through his mind but he shakes his head to get rid of the horrible thought. 

"-rdinand!" raised voice makes him turn his head to the source. Caspar is looking at him with confused eyes, searching for something in his face. Whatever he finds makes him scrunch his nose. "You okay?"

"Caspar! Yes, terribly sorry. My mind was elsewhere. Thank you for your assistance." 

"Yeah, no problem. You should probably be more careful, you know how many people injure themselves on this fragment of the stairs. I swear! Linhardt has so many stories about dumbasses like this." he says, fondness lacing his words.

"Indeed." Ferdinand says, still a little shaken. He grips papers in his arms tighter. "How careless of me."

"Are you going to that meeting in the throne room? Don't bother, Edelgard canceled. She needs some more time with that latest reform."

"Huh? Which one?" he doesn't remember anything like that. He doesn't remember being informed about the canceled meeting. 

"How should I know? Something about schools?" Caspar guesses but indeed, Ferdinand remembers that. His body relaxes slightly. 

"Thank you, Caspar." a pounding in his head gets even stronger than it was in the morning. He presses his hand to it trying to massage his scalp.

"No problem. Are you going back to work or...?"

"Work. Yes. I still have something to finish. Thank you once more." he laughs embarrassed. Caspar waves him goodbye and turns into the next corridor. Probably to visit Linhardt in the infirmary.

Tightness in Ferdinand's chest follows him back to his office. 

VI. He doesn't want to go to sleep again. He woke up from a nightmare once again this night. It's his third bloody dream this night. Ferdinand tries, again, to push heels of his hands into his eyes, not wanting any tears to escape. His lips are sealed tightly too. He doesn't want to wake up Hubert, who's sleeping soundly for once. He can only see his back, once his eyes clear, but it's enough. There are some scars, there are some moles. Marks he made himself a couple of nights earlier. 

His hand hovers above Hubert's skin, not daring to touch, knowing he will instantly wake. His breath is labored, short. There's something tickling his lungs, stuffing them, pushing out oxygen and not letting anymore inside. His hand shakes, nearly touching Hubert's back, but he stops it a moment before the collision. He just needs to sleep. It's a lack of sleep. His mind is muddled, but it's just nightmares taking hold. His chest tightens and he gasps, his hand curling into a fist that he bites into after a moment to not let out any louder noises. 

He spends the night curling into himself, tighter and tighter, willing the pain to disappear. 

VII. Dorothea is the first one to notice something’s not right. Normally, it would be Hubert, but this week is awfully busy for both of them, so even their tea breaks were put on a hold for the time being. 

So next is Dorothea. She glides into his office, graceful as always, and hits his desk with both of her hands.

„Prime minister, a moment of your time.” She says, clearly pissed off. 

„Ah... Hello to you too, ‘Thea. What can I do for you?” his assistants are away at the moment, taking care of sending his newest sketches of reforms to the right people, so the office is silent.

A hand is shoved at his forehead, and he flinches back at the touch. It’s so cold. 

„You’re burning up! I knew it.” She sighs, pulling back. A moment after her hand is gone Ferdinand misses it dearly already. Uncomfortable heat is once again climbing up his body, making him shiver slightly.

„It’s nothing, just a cold. It’s not like I’ve never worked with some headache before.” 

„Mhm. Are you sure you up to it? Have you been to Lindhardt yet?” 

„Uhhh...” for the first time in a long time he can’t find right words. They are swimming around in his head, but just out of his reach. He must have spaced out for a little longer than intended because Dorothea clasps his hand in her own and starts making circles. It’s soothing. „I just need some rest.” 

Dorothea looks at him with skepticism but he smiles at her reassuring and bright and her gaze softens. 

„Fine. But you’re going to do it now. C’mon, it’s just two hours to your normal retirement time so you might as well leave the rest to Jared and company.” She pulls him to his feet and he has half a mind to feel embarrassed about how easily he lets himself be pulled but then she half hugs him and escorts him to his room and he feels so warm. Not because of the fever, this time. 

He falls asleep the moment his body hits the bed.

VIII. Coughs wake him up. Terrible, resounding sounds. They're echoing throughout the room, bouncing off the walls and coming back to him. The pain in his chest makes him realize it is him who coughs, chokes on the air. His lungs burn, there’s tightness around his ribs. He can’t breathe. Something is clogging his throat. 

He can’t breathe. 

Ferdinand feels panic setting in, his hands claw first at the sheets then are slowly inching towards his throat. Anything to get it to stop. His body spasms. He feels the mattress creak under his weight when he tries to get up and fails miserably falling on the rug next to his bed. There are hurried steps down the corridor. 

His body makes a loud thud hitting the floor.

„Ferdinand!” He hears a cry. It’s almost as panicked as he feels. He still can’t breathe.

Hubert lifts him up in his arms and onto his lap. His arms check Ferdinand’s body for any signs of hurt, injury. Anything that would explain this awful coughing fit. Ferdinand feels him caressing his hair and cheek, saying something softly. Encouragement, maybe. Something calming, but Ferdinand can’t focus on the words. His hands over his mouth, cough racking his body. He thinks he feels tears making their way down his face.

„You have to breathe, my love. Try once more.” 

And Ferdinand tries. He swears he does, really. But the coughing doesn’t stop and there are black spots dancing in front of his eyes and the panic slowly changes to calmness, weird, and then- 

„You’re almost there, Ferdinand. I beg you, take a breath.”

This time he manages to do it. One time, then one more. The third and the fourth. Even if it hurts and his insides burn and his muscles ache from the exertion, he takes big, gulping portions of air just because Hubert is there with him. His hands are combing through his hair and it’s so nice- It would be so nice if only he wasn’t hacking his lungs out. 

His vision goes black. 

IX. He’s warm but comfortable warm. It’s the ideal temperature of his tea, every morning he wakes up with scarred arms circling his torso, every evening he spends with Dorothea in front of the fireplace, chatting their stress away. It’s sitting with all of his friends in the dining hall, laughing and talking about nothing for once, just enjoying each other company. 

He feels warm and cozy. 

When Ferdinand blinks his eyes open, a stone ceiling welcomes his sight. He can’t really focus that much, scratches and spider webs dance in front of his eyes and he scrunches his nose when a spider falls down on one of the desks and runs away in panic. 

His sight follows it because he’s bored and can’t figure out what’s happening. 

Ferdinand recognizes shelves and jars on the walls, as well as the forever-cluttered desk. A cute, encouraging poster with a cat hangs on the wall in front of his bed and his eyes cling to its bright colors. It’s pretty. 

Sheets under his hands and a pillow under his head are so fluffy and soft he’s afraid he’ll drown in them if he relaxes too much but his body begs for comfort. His brain tells him that if he tries to move but a muscle he’s going to collapse, without a doubt. 

So he lets himself sink, deeper and deeper and-

„Ferdinand?” somewhat dazed voice asks. Ah, Lindhardt. The man was sleeping in a cot next to him, separated by a thin curtain. Right now, he’s getting up and moving it out of the way yawning loudly. „Just as I fell asleep.”

„...my apologies.” Ferdinand responds after a second that's too long. Or, well, tries to. His throat is far to dry to actually make a sound and it hurts as if he swallowed shattered glass. Even so, Lindhardt knows him enough to just dismiss him with a move of a hand. 

„’s fine. It’s nearly time for your medicine either way so-„ he stops midsentence already turning around and going through shelves with medication. 

„Uh... medicine?” 

„Yeah.” The man says and Ferdinand can clear as day see him rolling his eyes. „You’ve got a pretty nasty case of flu. Why am I not surprised?” a sigh leaves his lips.

„Huh?” Ferdinand repeats.

„You know what? Just- take it.” Lindhardt gives him a glass with water and some pills. „And you can go back to sleep.” 

And Ferdinand does. 

X. He feels awful. So awful. When a cough starts it just can’t seem to stop. It doesn’t want to so he hacks his lungs out, again and again. And it hurts. He really doesn’t want to whine, that’s beneath him, but... 

But goddess how much he wants to cry. 

_Ferdinand von Aegir doesn't get sick_ , he so proudly boasted not so long ago. And it's been true. He almost doesn’t remember the last time he was so unwell because it was so long ago, when he was just a child. Barely five, he had gone through a severe case of influenza but his memory is blurry at best. His mother’s hands in his hair, softspoken words of a prayer, bitter taste of medical potions. Heat and sweat. Everything clinging to him, too hot and too tight and he feels the same right now. Really uncomfortable and everything aches.

But once more there are hands running through his hair, soothing, cooling. They’re almost as cold as his mother’s hands when he was clasping them in his own, one last time. The thought makes him jump and his eyes fly open, looking wildly around. 

„Are you awake already? There are still some hours until the sunrise. Go back to sleep.” Says a smooth voice, somewhere above him. The room is dark so Ferdinand can’t see but he knows this voice. His body relaxes, almost unvoluntary.

His face falls down on Hubert’s stomach and his arms tighten around his waist. It’s not very soft, more bony, but he would give up all of his fancy pillows for a spot like this anytime. His cheek smashes into Hubert’s dark nightwear.

"You didn't visit me at all. I was lonely." Ferdinand whines quietly. 

"And you didn't tell me you were so unwell." Hubert says back, disappointment lacing his voice. Ferdinand cringes a little, but hand in his hair doesn't stop so he thinks of it as a good sign. He snuggles closer and apologizes. 

Hubert can only sigh. 

"We will come back to this conversation. Now, go to sleep."

"Only if you go to sleep too. You can't sit in the bed like this for the whole night, just looming over me."

"What if-" he starts but Ferdinand silences him by reaching his hand up and laying it over his mouth. 

"I'm already on my meds and I'm resting. It will be fine in two weeks' time most, that's what Linhardt said, so stop fretting and get some rest too. You look like death warmed over."

"Aren't we matching together perfectly then?" Hubert chuckles darkly, but lowers himself to be on the same level and reaches his hand to pull the covers higher, rearranging them slightly to make it more comfortable for Ferdinand. Then he tries to do something to a pillow but Ferdinand gently slaps his hand away with a roll of his eyes.

"Are you done? Good." he says pulling his husband closer and sneaking his hands under his shirt to warm them a little. A contented sigh leaves Ferdinand's lips when Hubert returns the embrace and he melts into his too soft mattress and pillows.

He feels awful and his body aches but for the first time this week he dreams of warmth and safety and love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!
> 
> And speaking of the last part, you can choose yourself if the sickness was contagious :'))


End file.
